


Sneaky Cuts

by C_amara_deriee



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Anxiety, Bella's kind of an idiot sometimes, Bella-centric, Carlisle is not an idiot, Cutting, F/M, Hospital, Self-Harm, also posted on ff.net, cutting wrists, hiding self-harm, i literally have never read a twilight fanfic why did i write this, trying to cover up an injury
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7650784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_amara_deriee/pseuds/C_amara_deriee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How weak was she, that she could only go little more than a week before giving in to the urge to cut?<br/>She stared down at her wrist in disgust and dug the knife in a perfect matching crescent to the scar already there. If she wasn’t strong enough to stop her self-pity, then she deserved the pain.”<br/>OR<br/>Bella cuts to help her get through things and she goes a little too far. Good luck hiding that from the Cullens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bella cuts, be cautious of triggers okay?

 

"One more," She assured herself aloud as she positioned the small, sharp blade against her wrist, directly over the bite James had left behind after their confrontation a few months ago.

There was very little risk she would be found out, Edward having left with Emmett on a hunting trip that morning. He had dragged Edward away from Forks to hunt yesterday, claiming that the local forest provided no true challenge. Emmet liked to hunt way outside of Forks, states away, and often didn’t come back for days. Bella figured it would be at least a few more hours before Edward could manage to sneak away from him.

Bella had done the mental math in her head. She was a fast healer so, if the cut stopped bleeding within the hour, there would be nothing but a small graze by the time Edward came back. There would be no tell-tale scent of blood, assuring that she wouldn't be caught, and she could always blame the cut on a branch or her haven fallen down if he noticed. Perks of being clumsy.

_One tiny cut, that's all I need. Just enough to calm me down. I won't go any further._

She pushed aside the voice in her head reminding her that those were her exact thoughts the first time she cut. She still remembered what a disaster her first time was, but she was smarter now, she had learned to how to hide the cuts from Edward and his family. Her first time had been risky.

_It had an accident of sorts. She’d been at school all day, and she had just wanted to wash off her bad day with a shower before crashing in her bed next to Edward. As she ran her razor across her lower leg though, she had felt the weirdest pull to just maybe yank the razor sideways. She had resisted of course. What kind of idiot would cut themselves on purpose?_

_She had scoffed at herself and moved the razor up her leg from where it had fallen still during her contemplation. She continued to slide the razor over her knees and made her first sweep up the side of her thigh, then a second, until her thigh was nearly bare. The urge had passed, she knew it had, and she confidently ran the razor up one last time to get the last of the hair. And when she had reached the outside crease between her thigh and hip, she wrenched the razor to the right._

_It hadn’t bled excessively. Bella didn’t think it should have been bleeding much at all, she certainly hadn’t applied much pressure to the razor…had she? Either way, it was done bleeding before she exited the shower anyhow, and Bella had thought by the time Edward came to tuck her in, the blood would be long gone._

_Which is why it had been really unfortunate when Edward had climbed in her window almost four minutes after she had started the shower. He’d only been sitting on the edge of Bella's bed for a few minutes when he was suddenly hit with the urgent urge to feed. He was an experienced vampire and had fed only days ago, and was able to quickly push down the urge. Once he had his less-human side under control, he had realized what had caused his small fit: Bella's blood. It had to be Bella's blood. No one else's could possibly have aroused him to such an extent so quickly. But she was showing, and he could hear the steady thump-thumping of her heart. If she was in trouble surely he would have heard her call for help, and he hadn’t heard her heartbeat speed up at all. Or… or maybe he wouldn’t have. Bella certainly never seemed to be afraid of the things she should be._

_Edward had stood up, to do what-he didn't know, but then he heard her shut the water off. He hesitated, then decided it was better to wait till after Bella was decent to question her, rather than risk waking Charlie or embarrassing Bella. But when she walked in, her hair dripping and her skin still damp, he had been thoroughly distracted. It wasn't until Bella was neatly wedged and nearly asleep in Edward's arms that he had even remembered to ask Bella about the blood._

_"Bella, darling? Are you asleep?" he had asked._

_Bella had internally groaned. She knew damn well he knew she wasn’t asleep yet. She took a deep breath in and answered. "Not anymore."_

_"Did something happen to you while you we're showering?"_

_He had thought he’d said the question in a relatively smooth and calm voice, but he must have been wrong, because Bella's heartbeat had instantly sped up. "Are you hurt? What happened?" He quickly and gently grabbed her arm, checking the arms she had wrapped around him for any visible injuries._

_Bella had tried to pull her arm away and perfect her sleepy façade. "Edward, no. Stop. It's barely anything. I just nicked my leg a little with the razor. I'm perfectly fine." She even choked out a nervous giggle to make it seem as though she was embarrassed._

_Edward released her arms, but had said nothing. He would have assumed she was lying, if her heartbeat had been anything to go by. It had sped up considerably and sputtered like a humming bird's wing. She’d seemed almost ashamed though and embarrassment could speed up a heart just as easily as a lie. The vampire focused all his attention on the sound of Bella’s heartbeat as she slowly grew less anxious and more tired. When Edward had been certain she was toeing the verge of unconsciousness, he asked her one more question. "Love, how did you cut yourself with a razor?"_

_A slurred response had come from the pillow belonging to the one Edward loved most, "Ugh...come on, Edward...I’m no vampire,” here she had yawned wide enough to crack her jaw, “But I'm at least skilled enough not to cut myself shaving, sheesh, give me...some credit..." And had promptly fallen asleep._

But that had been months ago. To Bella’s knowledge, it was the only time Edward had ever been suspicious that maybe something was going on. The morning after had been chaotic and Charlie had pulled her out of bed early to go to the station with him; they had apparently arrested a famous celebrity (he wasn’t, the crook just looked remarkably like Tom Cruise), but it was enough that Edward had been distracted and had forgotten to ask her about it again.

Bella would like to think that she was doing better now, it had been a week or two since she had last cut. Of course, those were little more than hopeful thoughts when she currently had the blade pressed against her wrist. She guessed she wasn’t doing better, not if she ended up in this position once again. How weak was she, that she could only go little more than a week before giving in to the urge to cut? She was even weaker than she thought.

She stared down at her wrist in disgust and dug the knife in a perfect matching crescent to the scar already there. If she wasn’t strong enough to stop her self-pity, then she deserved the pain.

She knew she had gotten away with it tonight when Edward came through her window almost five hours later. He barely made a sound, only when he crawled onto his side of her bed did he give a soft, “Hello.” Bella’s cut had clotted hours ago and was well on its way to healing, he wouldn’t care about another little scrape on her.

She hummed and reached out to intertwine her hands with his before going back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"-It gets better. We forget that, that it gets better- but it's still the truth. We trip, we stumble, we tumble, and we fall, but we will all eventually pick ourselves up.” Bella finished the speech she had written for English late last night. There was no applause or cheering, and although Bella hadn't necessarily expected it, she was still disappointed. It seemed like she never did anything worth praise.

A small voice in her head told her that Edward might have clapped, had he been there. the reasonable side of her head told her that there was no way someone as perfect as Edward would clap for an essay so horrendous anyway.

After a long, terribly-tense stretch of silence, the teacher clapped her hands together a few times awkwardly, then sent Bella back to her seat with a few words. 

"Good job, Isabella! Very...inspirational. Now then, who's next?"

Bella attempted to cover her (very ladylike) snort behind her hand _. Inspirational?_ Yeah right, maybe for a fourth grader, but everyone older knew that her essay was dead wrong. Life doesn't just 'get better'. It gets worse and it gets confusing and it gets hard. _Bella's_ life certainly only seemed to be getting worse.

Like this morning, when she had woken up to an empty bed and no Edward in sight. She had gone through what had happened the night before, but she couldn't remember anything that would have made Edward want to leave before she had woken up.

She couldn't remember needing to use any of her excuses last night either, despite the long list of them she had created as a precaution, so he either hadn’t seen the cut or had thought nothing of it.

She'd even checked for her vampire outside, through her closed window, despite the meaning behind it being shut. Edward always closed the window on his way out; something about how "the sun would wake her." Which was utterly ridiculous, she lived in _Forks_ for Pete's sake! The sun could only wake her if it managed to through the absurdly thick blanket of dark clouds that always seem to hover above Forks.

What confused her even more was when _Alice_ had picked her up, instead of her usual vampire. Alice had offered no explanation, simply smiling and telling Bella to get in. Once inside, Alice had told her that "Eddie" was helping Jasper with something today, in a totally non-vague way of course, and that he wouldn't be at school. Bella thought it was weird that Edward hadn't told her anything about it, and had tried to ask a chatty Alice, but her almost-sister waved every question with expertise ease and had managed to distract Bella with talk of the next places she would take Bella shopping when they next hung out.

Bella was so emerged in going through her memories of that morning that she nearly jumped out of her skin when the bell rang to signal the end of the school day. She grabbed her bag and headed over to the English teacher standing by the door, handing out graded papers to the students as they filed out.

"Now class, do not forget about the essay due tomorrow!" 

Crap. Bella groaned along with the rest of her classmates, who had most likely also forgot about writing the essay. She could usually write the essays with ease, but it was the topic that was stumping her on this one. It was a personal statement question: Describe a personal trait that you are proud of. It was barely and essay at all, only needed to be 600 words, and she was completely and utterly stumped by it. Maybe inspiration would pop up soon and she could make something up.

Although, with Edward away for the day, the miracle was unlikely. At least English had been her last class. Now she could go home and hopefully see Edward. She figured he was probably done helping out Jasper with whatever he needed.

Alice was waiting by Bella's locker to ambush her. Alice dragged Bella to her flashy car, chatting up a storm. She was almost _too_ bubbly, like she was trying to hide something. 

Alice was an amazing actor, just like the rest of the Cullen family (Bella supposed centuries of practice could do that), but Bella had known her so long that she could see when Alice wasn't herself.

Bella wanted to confront her about it, but found she didn't even have the energy to squeeze in a word edgewise, let alone _question_ Alice. Not that Bella minded not having to fill the air with conversation, she much preferred listening to Alice than listening to her thoughts.

Gossip and loud music filled the air until Alice raced up the Swan driveway. 

Alice took a deep breath and quickly spewed out, "Oh! And Edward said he wouldn't be able to come over tonight, but you'll be okay, I checked!" She wiggled her fingers at the side of her head before kicking Bella out and throwing the car into reverse so fast Bella didn't even have the chance to attempt to comprehend what Alice had just told her.

Bella watched as Alice's car backed up out of the driveway at 30mph and heard the _clunk_ of the passenger door slam shut, before watching her drive away and letting the all-too-familiar feeling of disappointment wash through her.

She walked numbly to the front door, dumped her backpack there, and fled to the bathroom. She wasn't going to do it for the need to calm down this time; she just plain needed to _feel_. Once in the small bathroom, she pulled out her razor and smiled.

Bella had found the strength to write her next forcefully optimistic essay.


	3. Chapter 3

Bella wanted to run. She wanted to run, and run, and run. She wanted to never look back; never having to see the pain and suffering she's caused. But she can't. For some reason, every time she tries to end it, to be done with her horrible life, Edward is there. Not really there, he has never seen what she does, but he's there in her mind. Her subconscious conjures him up in the front of her eyes, right before things go too far, and he stops her. A semi-suicidal vampire stops her from killing herself. What a strange defiance of Mother Nature.

Bella often wonders if he's noticed anything odd about her, besides the usual stupid things that must make him hate her, if only just a little. Things like her constant clumsiness, her insatiable hunger for physical contact, if only with the back of his arm, and the sheer idiocy involved with all humans. She wonders if he ever takes time off from his normal human charade and pretending to care about her.

Edward tells her that she is his whole world, but if she was, wouldn't he have noticed what she was doing? Wouldn't it be _obvious_ what she's been doing? Bella hopes he has realized what goes on in Bella's life, but at the same time, she doesn't. She doesn't want to see the disapproving look he often gives her, with the stern tilted eyebrows and the lip twisted down in disgust.

But maybe she deserves that. Perhaps that's the reason he was gone today, to teach her a lesson. He must have thought that if no one else would discipline her, he would have to. She isn’t quite sure what she’s done wrong, but if Edward thinks she has, she certainly must have. He had even come up with the perfect punishment: to stay away, and force her live through it alone.

It hurts Bella, in the most pathetic way possible, to be away from Edward. He’s her rock, her sanity, her everything. Lately, she feels the only reason she wakes up is to see him. Without him she was sure to crumble, she...she...wanted to die without him, and he just doesn’t let her. Bella thought herself weak, but even if he no longer wanted her, she doesn’t think she could bring herself to go against Edward's wishes to stay alive. She would do whatever he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted it. She refused to even consider going against him, he was, after all, responsible for the few months that made up the best part of her sad, lonely life.

There were times though, times like right now, when she was so tempted to fully press the dull razor that was posed just right of James' scar, parallel to the cut she made last night, a little bit harder, to just end it all and not have to worry about disappointing anyone. If that guilt-trip imaginary Edward would just disappear, she would have no trouble forgetting the reasons to live any longer.

Instead, she was forced to listen to imaginary Edward lie smoothly about how she would fail Charlie by leaving him here all by himself. How distraught Alice would become to find out her best friend/Barbie doll had abandoned her. Or even how she had yet to prove her worth to the Cullen family.

Bella was certain Rose thought of her as someone who gives up easily. Carlisle and Esme have surely marked her as simply using their son by now. Emmett dismissed her as mild entertainment, and Jasper couldn’t care less if another human took the easy way out.

If she died now, there would be loose ends left over. She would never get the opportunity to change their opinion of her.

Tantalizingly slowly, she moved the razor down her wrist, pressing only hard enough to cut a few layers of pale skin, before concealing the bloodied razor back in her empty shampoo bottle and watching Fake Edward fade away, back into her head. She figured she’d better start her homework before she got carried away by her pity party.


	4. Chapter 4

Twenty minutes in and the bleeding still hadn’t stopped.

Originally she’d only barely scraped the surface of her wrist, but after sitting for an hour in front of her laptop, trying futilely to write the stupid, stupid essay, she grew flustered and agitated and grabbed the razor and _sliced_ along the previous cut.

She didn’t think she’d meant to cut this deep. Heck, she didn’t _think_ at all. How would she hide this from Edward? How would she even hide this from _Charlie?_ He would be home in less than an hour. How was she supposed to hide the bloody rags she’s been using to hamper the blood flow or prepare dinner with this huge gash on her arm?

It’s not that the wound was bleeding profusely, it was more of a trickle by now, but it still worried Bella. The flow should have stopped by now and something about it looked more severe than other cuts she’s made, but she can’t quite figure out what. The edges of it are slightly jagged from what she can see under the crimson covering her entire wrist, but that’s not what worries Bella; some of her deeper cuts looked like that when she’d made them. No, it was something about the _shape_ of the- _oh._

Crap. The edges of the cut didn’t touch. She couldn’t pinch the sides and get them to stay together, it wasn’t going to heal on its own. It would need to be stitched.

This was…this was fine. She would be okay. She could simply drive up the hospital, ask them to stitch her up, and drive back before Charlie even got home. Forks was small. She could make it. She could be back in plenty of time. The only thing Bella needed to do was give the hospital a reason for the injury.

She grabbed a white rag from underneath the bathroom sink and wrapped it tight around the cut as she thought over her options. She had plenty of excuses stored up for if any of the Cullens or any friends ever noticed- cut herself on a tree branch while in the forest, dropped the knife while cooking, nicked herself while shaving- but none of them would work for a gash this deep.

Bella pressed the towel down firmer to staunch the bleeding as she walked down the stairs. She grabbed her keys, locked the front door behind her, and got into her truck.

Maybe she could persuade the nurse who stitched her up that she tripped and sliced her wrist on the edge of a piece of furniture or something. Except, the only piece of furniture that was sharp enough or the right height was the nightstand-looking table at the bottom of the stairs, and to hit that she would have to have tumbled down the entire staircase. The nightstand was right after the curve in the staircase, so to have hit it with enough momentum to cut herself, she would have had to fall down the entire length. But really, Bella really couldn’t think of any better options. Plus, this excuse was on par with what the town knew about her if word spread to anyone else; everyone who knew her knew that she had two left feet.

Right, that would work. Bella had fallen down the stairs. She’d been distracted by her phone and wasn’t looking where she was going and then-bang! Fell down the steps. Oh, but if she had, she would have quite a few bruises along her body, wouldn’t she? How would she justify her lack of abrasions? Maybe she could just say she fell down the last few? No, that wouldn’t work for where the nightstand was located.

Bella sighed. If she wanted to make her excuse realistic she would have to actually fall down the stairs. Plus, that way she might actually be able to keep a level voice when explaining and not give it away with her complete inability to lie.

She removed her keys from the ignition and walked back into the house. She hesitantly closed the front door behind her and traversed up the stairs. When she reached the top step, she took a deep breath and, before she had time to reconsider, closed her eyes and took a step.

Bella toppled down the stairs and crashed to a stop at the bottom, inches from the nightstand. Thank goodness she’d managed to avoid really hitting it; she didn’t need another rent in her body.

Bella picked herself off the ground carefully, hissing when placing her left hand on the ground. She set to work re-wrapping her injured appendage. Along with the cut, bleeding anew from the fall, a few of the fingers and the wrist itself were causing her pain. At least now she would have the bruises to match the cover story.

She gingerly walked back to her car, limping slightly. She was pretty sure nothing was broken, but she’d managed to hit the area a couple inches below her right knee on the front of a step on her way down, which made putting any pressure on it rather painful. Whatever. They could check it when they looked at her wrist at the hospital if it still hurt then.

Plus, now she could head to the hospital and get stitched up without having to worry about her cover being blown. And she should probably hurry, if the red splotches peeking through her makeshift bandage were anything to go by.

Bella drove the rest of the way to the hospital one handed and parked in the nearly deserted parking lot. One perk of living in a small town: the parking lots in Forks were almost never full, even at six in the afternoon. Bella hoped the waiting room was just as empty because Charlie was due home in half an hour. With any luck, the doctor that stitched her up could do it quick.

She shuffled through the automatic doors of the reception room and knew the second the receptionist saw her.

“Oh my! Dear, what happened? Are you alright? You’re Isabella Swan, right? Chief Swan’s daughter? Do you want me to call him, sweetheart?”

Bella did her best to reassure the concerned receptionist with a wave of her good arm.

“It’s Bella,” she corrected on instinct. “And no, it looks worse than it is. I’m fine, really,” she reassured her with a small smile. “I just need a quick stitching up and I’ll be on my way.”

The nurse nodded sincerely, but eyed the arm Bella was cradling warily. “Alright, hon. I’ll go get the doctor. Take a seat right over there,” she replied as she walked out to find the doctor, waving her hand in the general direction of the patient beds.

There were ten of gurney beds lined up along the disgusting moss-colored wall just past the waiting room. Bella limped to the furthest one and pulled herself up onto it. She was about four beds from the one she had been put in after the Tyler car incident a year ago. Thank goodness she at least didn’t need the neck brace this time.

That event had been horribly embarrassing, but it’d also been the first time she had gotten a glimpse into Edward’s life. It had been her first time experiencing how absolutely kind-natured he and his family were. She supposed Dr. Cullen was paid to treat his patients nice, but Edward’s father had patched her up at least a dozen times since that day, and still he continued to be nothing but considerate towards her. He was by far her favorite doctor to be patched up by.

A sudden realization hit Bella. She had no idea if Carlisle was working tonight or not. This was bad. She should have planned for this! How could she have been so stupid? If he was working, he would go and tell Edward, or he might figure out she was lying himself! All her plans would be useless. She would have thrown herself down the stairs for nothing.  

Though her panic, Bella noticed the receptionist re-enter the room.

“Don’t worry, darling, Dr. Cullen is on duty tonight, he’ll be here in a moment and patch you right up.” The receptionist told Bella with a smile. Crud, he _was_ working tonight.

“Did you… did you tell him it was me?” Bella stuttered.

The receptionist seemed surprised by her question. “No, I only let him know he had a patient who needed stitches, but you don’t need to worry. He’ll take good care of you regardless.”

“Um, actually,” Bella choked out, “do you think there are any other doctors available? I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t want to bother Dr. Cullen with such a small thing.”

The receptionist made a face at Bella like she was the cutest thing she’d ever seen for considering Dr. Cullen’s schedule. “Nonsense. Look around, you’re the only patient here, Miss Swan!” She gestured to the empty waiting room with her hand. “And anyway,” the receptionist continued, “I’ve already informed him you’re here. Just hold tight, he should be here any minute.”

Maybe she could just leave. She’d only been here 10 minutes; she could make it back home before Charlie got off work and wait till later tonight to come back to get stitches. Carlisle didn’t know it was Bella waiting, he would be none the wiser, and Edward wasn’t coming over tonight. Alice had told her such. Her wrist was surely done bleeding now; getting stitched up could wait a few more hours. Surely she could hide her damaged hand and wrist from Charlie with a large enough sweatshirt or something without a problem. And yeah, she had a limp, but that would be easy enough to hide.

 _Yup. Okay,_ she thought to herself as she hopped off the gurney bed and wobbled dangerously on her landing, _I’m leaving._

She heard the receptionist ask her where she was going. She mumbled something unintelligible under her breath and reached the sliding doors the same moment Dr. Cullen walked into the room.

“Bella?” she heard him ask. “What are you doing here?” And then, in a more concerned tone, “Bella, is that blood?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I disliked how the first few chapters turned out, but the story really picks up in this chapter. If you have any ideas, shoot them my way! I will add them. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for the comments and kudos and subscriptions, it’s the only reason this gets written (especially thanks to mrs firestorm). I apologize for any grammar mistakes—please let me know if you see any. 
> 
> Yes, I know bruises don’t take on such a dark color so quickly. We’re gunna pretend like they would. Yes, I know Carlisle would be 10x as concerned as he is, but you know what? He’s concerned on the inside.

If it wasn’t for the bad kind, Bella was pretty sure she wouldn’t have any luck at all.

“Carlisle! No, it’s not…well, I mean, technically it _is_ blood. But there’s like, hardly any.” Bella held up her arm as proof. “It’s already stopped bleeding, so I’m just going to…” she edged further outside, “go…”

Carlisle grasped her un-injured arm before she could fully get outside.

“Bella, wait. Hold on.” He gently turned her around and led her back a couple steps into the room. Bella could hear the automatic doors whoosh close behind her. Carlisle tenderly picked at the bloodied rag covering her self-inflicted wound. “Let me look at it, maybe I can help.”

Bella snatched her arm away, but not before he’d already seen the cut.

“Bella.” He assessed her for a second, then snaked an arm around her upper back. “Why don’t you sit down for a minute.” Bella allowed herself to be led back to the bed, ignoring the concerned look of the receptionist as they passed. Carlisle placed her atop the bed and she stared at the bedside table to avoid looking at him.

She saw Carlisle turned away from her in her peripheral vision. She looked up to see him walk to the receptionist desk. He whispered something to the woman behind too quietly for Bella to hear, but the receptionist nodded in response and left the room.

Bella forced her eyes to return to the table as Carlisle returned. He said nothing as he rooted through the drawers on a metal cart, and neither did she. He found what he was looking for and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic and a few white gauze pads.

He kept quite as he gently-always gently with him- pulled the hand pressing down on the soiled rag away and placed the makeshift bandage on the table.

Under the florescent lights of the hospital, every crevice of the laceration was thrown into stark view. Somehow, the cut looked even worse now that the bleeding had stopped. The older blood had mixed with the more recent to create a hard, wet-looking shell over parts of it. Most of her forearm was crusted over with browning blood, as well as most of the slightly bent fingers on her hand.

Oh. Bella grew a little lightheaded. It was, for lack of better word, _disgusting._ Carlisle looked up from the bottle of antiseptic he’d been about to pour at her inhale. Her eyes flickered up to meet his before she could stop them.

He broke their staring contest first, looking back down to her wound and wiping it with antiseptic covered gauze sheets. Bella didn’t know what he’d seen in her face, but she was relieved to postpone their inevitable conversation as long as she could.

“I can see a couple broken fingers, and your wrist is pretty badly sprained. Does anything else hurt?”

She was jolted out of her contemplation by his soft inquiry. 

His gaze never left the cut he’d nearly finished wiping the blood off of, but Bella found herself looking away from his face nonetheless.

“M-My leg. Just under my knee.” She laid her good hand on the spot to specify it to Carlisle, but she was shocked to find the jean fabric covering the abrasion to be stretched nearly to the point of ripping. The spot had swollen to almost double its original size. Bella sighed, there was no way she was getting her jeans off over that lump.

Carlisle’s fingertips left her wrist and brushed over the swollen spot. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’d like to examine the injury. See why it’s so swollen.” He said. “Do you think you can get your jeans over it? I can get you a hospital gown.”

Bella shoot her head in reply. There was no way she was getting these jeans off. “Can you just cut them?” They were old anyway.

To his credit, Carlisle didn’t so much as blink an eye as he lifted the surgical scissors for the side table and snipped off the leg of her right jeans just below her thigh. It took a few more clips to get through the rest of the fabric. Now that the fabric was no longer covering the bruise, Bella could see why it was so swollen.

The center of the bruise was a ghastly mix of green and sickly yellow. Garish reddish purple splotches connected the light inside to the vivid purple and navy blue smears circled around it. The entire fist-sized spot was encompassed by a nearly black ring. It lifted off her right leg like a second knee.

She could clearly see Carlisle poking and prodding at it, but Bella could hardly feel it. Bella counted her blessings; she knew in a few hours it would hurt like crazy.

“No detectable bone or muscle damage, but it will take three or four weeks to fade.” Carlisle straightened back up to his full height. He towered over Bella, seated as she was on the gurney and wasted no time in taking a firm hold of her left arm. Bella blinked, and faster than she could follow, Carlisle reached over to the same drawer he’d retrieved the antiseptic from, pulled out a suture needle, threaded it, and made the first stitch. Bella supposed there was no real reason he’d need to use human speed if no one was around to see him, but it still taken off guard. Carlisle hardly ever used his vampire speed around her. She didn’t mind though; the sooner she was stitched up, the sooner she could get home to Charlie.

Charlie. The same Charlie that, according to the clock above the door at her left, was due to be home… almost 10 minutes ago. Bella sighed. She was dropping the ball all over the place today.

She pulled her phone (thankfully located in her right jean pocket, where her un-injured hand could get to) and checked for missed calls. There were only two. With any luck, Charlie hadn’t called his friends at the station yet. She hit call back and lifted the phone to her ear. He picked up on the first ring.

“Bella! I just got home, where are you?” He didn’t sound _too_ anxious yet, that was good.

“Sorry Char-Dad. I wanted to make pizza for dinner, but we didn’t have any tomato sauce so I went to the store to get some.” She hoped her lie sounded more convincing over the phone than it did to her in person. “I guess I forgot to write a note.”

She could hear the relief in his voice when he answered back, “Oh. That’s fine then. You had me worried, Bells!”

She forced her voice to be lighthearted as his as she watched Carlisle place the last couple stitches (She now realized they were bright, neon blue. Guess there was no hiding it after she got out of here). “Yeah, sorry. There’s a huge line here, but I’ll be home as soon as I can, kay?”

“Hm, they must be having a sale or something,” He sounded distracted. Bella thought she could her the TV in the background. “No worries, Bells, take your time. See you when you get home.”

They exchanged goodbyes and hung up.

Carlisle had remained quiet during her conversation, but she thought she could physically touch the cloud of disapproval radiating off of him if she tried.

“I…can explain.”

Carlisle tied off the string and placed his tools back onto the metal cart. He used his vampire speed again to dress the area around the newly-placed stitches and moved his hands down her arm. Before Bella had time to say anything, Carlisle had snapped her fore, middle, and ring fingers back into their bone sockets.  

The action left her gasping for breath.

“I’m sorry, Bella. It’s easier if you’re not tensed.” His words lacked the sharp bite she’d been expecting to have.

He left her side to zip over to the opposite side of the room and grab the padded surgical wrap they kept there. She used the time to collect herself and banish the water from the corners of her eyes. When Carlisle returned, he lifted Bella’s arm once more and started covering the entire wrist with cotton ball-like pieces of gauze. She understood what he was doing. Typically, he would have given her a Velcro brace for her wrist, but with the gash carved James’ scar being almost directly over the sprain, he would have to settle for wrapping it as securely as he could.

When he was finished, Bella’s right wrist was wrapped in so many layers of gauze it looked like cotton candy from a fair. Carlisle took a step back and assessed her to be sure he’d attended to all her injuries, and probably to make sure she wasn’t hiding any others.

Bella knew how she must look to him. Her arm resembled something the Pillsbury Dough Boy would be jealous of, three fingers of that same arm had been secured with metal braces, and the leg of the opposite side was lacking its jean covering and bared a baseball sized, purple lump.

She resolutely refused to meet his gaze. She looked up only when she heard the door he’d first came into the room from close.

Was he…letting her leave? He wasn’t going to ask any questions? Had he not recognized her scars? No, he was the best doctor she’d ever met. Heck, probably the best doctor in the world, he would have known the cut directly over James’ scar was a result of her own doing. Maybe, he just didn’t care. That was the only other option.

Whatever. Bella wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She flipped onto her stomach and slowly lowered herself to the floor, she’d learned from her last experience not to hop off the bed, plus her adrenaline had long worn off and her many wounds were really starting to take a toll on her.

She’d limped all of two steps when the Carlisle strode back into the room, the receptionist following on his heels. Bella wandered what he’d told her.

She heard his beautiful voice dismiss the kind woman, “Thank you Lydia, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The receptionist, Lydia, smiled back at Carlisle in return. “Of course Dr. Cullen. Take care.”

Carlisle nodded and walked over to where Bella had frozen mid-step. His face gave away nothing as he rested his hand delicately on the small of her back and swiftly guided her out the front doors she’d been so desperately trying to leave through a moment earlier. Bella willingly let him led her around the front of the building to the faculty parking lot, and accepted his offered hand to help her into the passenger side of his car.

She contemplated what she would tell Carlisle when he asked her what had happened, as he would inevitably do the second he got into the car. She couldn’t tell him the truth, that much was certain. He wouldn’t understand, he might panic or tell Charlie or tell Edward and…no. Just no. That wasn’t an option.

She could tell him a partial truth. Say she’d cut herself on her razor while shaving. That wouldn’t explain the broken fingers though. Or the goose egg on her leg. Maybe she’d tripped in the shower from surprise?

No, no. The plan she came to the hospital with was the best. She’d fallen down the stairs. It wasn’t technically a lie, and maybe that would help her voice keep steady when she spoke to him. Any other excuse and she would get caught up in a web of lies. Plus, she had the bruises as undeniable proof.

By the time Carlisle had walked around the car and sat down, she’d determined her original story was the best: she’d fallen down some steps.

That plan was shot out the window the moment he opened his mouth.

“Bella, how long have you been self-harming?”

Well, crap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet! I'm gunna try to make them all this size. As always, let me know if there's something you'd like to see.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter. I hope you do too.

The leather seats in Carlisle’s car were soft and plush. They cradled Bella on either side, and if she were to lay back against them, the material would willingly give way to encompass her in their warmth.  But they felt uncomfortable to her now, the material scratchy against her tensed thighs and her knuckles were turning white from the pressure of the death grip she had on the seat. She was loath to release it, however. The leather clamped between her fingers felt like the only thing still keeping her in one piece.

Carlisle had recognized her scars. Of course he had, he was not a fool. Why had she ever thought she could pull one over on a vampire thousands of years old? He’d seen more than she could ever imagine; he could never have been deceived by someone like Bella. And now he knew the truth. He knew she wasn’t strong enough, was weak and incompetent and pathetic enough to slice up her own skin instead of dealing with her fucking issues like a regular fucking person. He knew she would rather sit alone in her bathroom, with the cold steel of her razor on her wrist for company, than _do_ something about her problems. Knew that she couldn’t be _normal_ and _deal with things like a person_ without hacking apart her body. Hell, she had thrown herself down the staircase and given herself injuries so heaps worse, just to cover up a small scratch.

Looking out the front window, she could barely make out the sun setting on the horizon through the curtain of tears covering her eyes. They felt like they were burning her skin as they bubbled over and streaked down her cheeks. She found the pain satisfying, grounding. She slowly twisted in her seat and raised her head to meet Carlisle’s concerned gaze.

He looked at her first with caution, like he was afraid she was going to break down right in front of him. Then his gaze turned firmer, and she could tell he wouldn’t give up until he had an answer from her.

Bella broke the silence first.

“No.”

Carlisle sighed.

“Bella, I know self-harm injuries when I see them.” Bella dug her nails deeper into the seat.

“No.”

He continued on, ignoring her.

“I’ve seen tormented people walk in with smiles on their face and gashes carved into their body, pretending that they fell into a counter or dropped the knife while cooking more times in my life as a doctor than I can count. I’ve treated people who’ve limped in to me through hospital doors, with their wrists attached by nothing more than bone, having slashed through tissue and muscle, and nearly collapsing from blood loss.” Bella couldn’t feel her hands any longer, but she could feel the tears that fall off her face and landed in her lap. “I’ve had self-harm victims who come in week after week, every week, without fail. I’ve patched those people up as their injuries got steadily worse and worse. Sewed together their broken flesh even as their souls broke apart.” His eyes never left her face. “Watched them stumble in again and again and again, never learning and never changing, until one day they roll in on a gurney, and there’s nothing left for me to patch.”

Bella winced like he’d slapped her. Carlisle looked almost remorseful for a second before he seemed to mentally shake himself and faced forward to start up the car. He didn’t bother to put on his seatbelt or remind Bella to fasten hers as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Bella eyes remained on Edward’s adoptive father, a father to her too, in so many ways. He was the man who comforted her over things her own father could never know about. Carlisle had been the one to assure her they all still loved her after her disastrous birthday. He’d shared his painful past with her and therefore placed the control into her hands when she’d needed it most. He’d welcomed her into the Cullen family without expecting anything in return. He’d acted as her wall, supporting her in a way not Edward nor Charlie could. And now, to have him both figuratively and literally turning his back on her, to be so disappointed in her, tore Bella apart.

She shut her eyes and kept them shut tight the rest of the ride, only opening them once she recognized the familiar twists and turns of the Cullen driveway.

Bella was alarmed to see Esme, Alice, and Jasper standing on their front porch, watching Carlisle and her pull up. Rosalie and Emmett were still off traveling in, well, Bella thought Edward had said Asia, but they’d been traveling all over the world recently. But why wasn’t Edward with Esme, Alice, and Jasper? In fact, why were those three waiting for Carlisle and her anyway? Did they know what had happened at the hospital? Did Carlisle tell them somehow?

A glimpse to to her left confirmed her suspicions. Carlisle held a cell phone in his hand. He must have texted them what happened the when they’d turned down the driveway.

_Please, **please** , if there is a God, let Carlisle not have texted Edward too._

Alice had told Bella when she’d dropped her off this afternoon (was it really only hours ago?), that Edward wouldn’t be coming over to her house that night, but she hadn’t told Bella what he was doing.  Right now, Bella was hoping and praying it was because he was out hunting. If she ever allowed Edward to see her like this, it would prove what a weak human she actually was compared to him.

Carlisle parked close to the house, turned off the car, and opened Bella’s door before Bella had even had a chance to reach for the handle. She accepted his extended hand and pressed a considerable amount of her weight against Carlisle as she pretty much tumbled out of the car. He closed it behind her and they painstakingly hobbled towards the Cullens that were gathered at the front door.

Bella knew Carlisle and her must make quite the sight: a crippled girl desperately clinging to an immaculate god. Her eyes were likely still bloodshot from crying, her fractured wrist was throbbing through the thick bandage wrapped around it, three of her fingers were encased in metal, and the bowl-sized purple lump below her right knee had further discolored to reveal a deeper shade of black creeping into the center. The cut off jean pant leg only served to increase her humiliation. She looked like a homeless car accident victim, or a drug addict.

Bella thought about trying to hold her head high and pretend like she couldn’t care less, but her insecurities won out and she fell back slightly behind Carlisle as they approached the others.

When Bella had first seen them, she had thought their expressions were ones of disappointment and revulsion, but as she grew closer she saw only confusion on their faces. Maybe they didn’t know what she’d done yet. She could still talk her way out of this.

Alice was fiddling with her fingers, her hands held in front of her and rolling over each other. She was always so twittery for a vampire, usually it made Bella feel more at ease, but now it only served to ramp up her nerves. Poor Jasper. He must be a wreck, dealing with her nerves and Alice’s.

Esme was the first to move. She stepped up to Bella, taking her weight from Carlisle by scooped her arm under Bella’s and wrapped it around Bella’s back to support her into the house. Jasper and Alice moved aside to let them through. Esme led her to the couch in their living room and took a seat on the opposite couch. Bella understood, she wouldn’t want to be close to someone like her either.

Carlisle had disappeared upstairs, Bella assumed to change out of his scrubs, but Alice and Jasper took a seat across from her, next to Esme. Bella felt a surge of calm slam against her as Jasper sat down. His gift never ceased to amaze her. It would be harder to lie her way out of this with him there.

“-here in… Bella? Are you listening?”

Oh. Carlisle had come back while she’d been thinking. She blinked up at him.

“What?”

If Carlisle was angry she hadn’t been listening, he didn’t show it.

“I said I sent a text to Edward. He’ll be here in a few minutes. He was already on his way home from hunting,” Carlisle repeated.

Bella swallowed before asking, “What did you tell him?”

Carlisle’s expression was unreadable as he took a seat in the armchair to Bella’s left, “Same thing I told them.” He gestured to the other three in the room, “That you were in the hospital and lied about how you got your injuries.”

Bella was conflicted on whether she felt embarrassed or indignant. Indignation won.

“I did not lie! I. Fell. Down. The. Stairs.” She enunciated each word individually.

“How did you get hurt?” Carlisle pressed.

“ _Stairs.”_ Bella nearly hissed the word.

“Why did you hurt yourself, Bella?”

Would Carlisle just give up already?

“I told you-”

“This will get us nowhere,” Jasper interrupted. “Just wait for Edward. I can already feel him on the edge of the property.”

Sure enough, not five heartbeats later, her angel burst into the room. His hair was disheveled, as it always was after he went running. The bottoms of his eyes were crinkled up with concern. Dirt splotches were covering his shoes and there was a tear in the bottom corner of his shirt where it’d caught on a tree branch. He looked as perfect as ever.

“Edward.” Bella allowed herself a deep breath. She would have a really hard time convincing them now.

 “Bella!” Bella blinked a couple times at his sudden appearance in front of her. By the time she realized what was happening, he was on his knees in front of her and tracing around the bruise of her leg with a feather-light touch. “What happened to you?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but Carlisle beat her to the punch. “We were just discussing that. Please take a seat.”

Edward’s head snapped to Carlisle and he stared at him for a few moments. Bella would bet her measly bank account that he was reading Carlisle’s mind.

Carlisle must have told him something, or maybe he just deduced it from whatever he found in Carlisle’s thoughts, because he released the tender grip he had on Bella’s calf and took a seat with his siblings and adoptive mother on the opposite couch, away from her.

Bella was going to pretend like that action didn’t crumple her fragile heart.

“Bella, hon, please honestly tell us what happened.” Esme urged her.

Bella worked hard to un-purse her lips and soften the wrinkles in her forehead. She compelled her expression into one of strained patience and exhaustion. It wasn’t hard.

“I was looking at my phone,” Bella said, “and I missed the first step on my stairs and I just,” she makes a rolling motion with both hands, “fell down.” Bella shrugged and required herself to retain eye contact with them.

“And the cut on your wrist?” Carlisle challenged.

Exclamations rang out, “Cut on her wrist?!”

Oh yeah, the others didn’t know about that, did they. Edward jumped out of his seat and reached for her wrist. Carlisle caught his hand before it reached its destination and picked up Bella’s hand himself.

“Don’t touch it, it’s pretty badly sprained.” Carlisle explained as he unwrapped it delicately.

Bella heard Alice’s exclamation of “oh my!” and felt a wave of concern from Jasper once the stitches were exposed.

“I hit it against the night stand at the bottom of the stairs. It just hit really hard I guess, I don’t know.”

Carlisle gave her a doubtful look. Esme had her hand reached towards Bella’s arm as if she could heal it if she could just touch it. Edward was still inspecting her cut, but his face was scrunched up in concentration. Alice and Jasper’s eyes were on Bella’s face. She winced. Yeah, it looked bad, but it could have very well been caused by the nightstand at the bottom of her stairs.

“Uh huh,” Alice said, “And what does your doctor think?”

“I think,” said Carlisle slowly, “that the only way this cut could have happened at this angle, and this deep, is if Bella did it to herself.”

Bella’s heartbeat was almost deafening in the silence.

“That’s not what happened.” She insisted.

“I think,” Carlisle continued, “that she threw herself down the stairs after the fact to cover up the cut.”

 “No.” Her protests fell on deaf ears.

 “And,” _Shut up Carlisle. Please, just shut up,_ “I think that she’s been doing this for a long time.”

Bella fought to quiet her erratic, disjointed breaths. She tugged the arm Carlisle still held, and he let her go. She clutched the wrist close to her chest, ignoring the scratching of the stitches against her shirt.

“Bella.” She heard Edward say. Bella refused to look left where she knew he was still standing. He reached out and lifted her chin until she was forced to lift her eyes.

“Tell me this isn’t true.”

It was a demand. Bella was happy to oblige.

“It’s not.”

Edward cocked his head to the side, listening to something. Suddenly, his face contorted into a snarl and he ripped his fingers off her face, knocking it to the side a bit in the process. She quickly righted herself and watched him pace in front of her.

He was growling and mumbling to himself. She could make out the words “heartbeat doesn’t lie” and “Carlisle’s right.”

“How do you know he’s right?”

Edward froze mid-pace and cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“I mean,” she fought to save herself, “Come on. Why would I lie about something like this?”

The tension in the air was heavy, and when Edward replied, his voice was carefully controlled, but the tone was one someone would use when explaining something simple to an imbecile. “Maybe it was the way your heartbeat speeds up every time I grab your wrist.” He glided forwards and snatched up her unbandaged wrist, harder than he perhaps meant to, judging by how the scars and strained muscle screamed at the movement, and held it up between their faces as proof. “The same way it’s done that every time I’ve held your hand for _months.”_ His head snapped back to look at her once more.

“I’m not an _idiot,_ Bella. _Carlisle_ ’ _s_ not an idiot.” He used the hand not holding her captive to point to each person on the couch in order, “Esme and Alice and _Jasper_ aren’t idiots!”

Bella fought to get her fear under control. This was Edward, he wouldn’t hurt her.

“If I _was_ cutting myself, don’t you think you guys would have found out about it by now?” She hoped if she could anger him enough, he would eventually give up and let it go. Flawed logic? Maybe. But it was the only chance she had. “After all, you’re not idiots.”

If Edward wasn’t furious before, he sure was now. And yet, he smiled as he said his next words.

“You want to play it that way? Fine, we’ll play on your terms.” Bella had never seen this side of him. It was a quiet sort of rage. If she made a wrong move now she didn’t want to know what would happen.

“Say we ignore this incident. Say we even,” he chuckles darkly, “Say we even believe you. What do we do the next time you trip down the stairs?”

“It wouldn’t happen again,” she whispers.

“Right, right, sorry. I mean when you trip in the shower and ‘cut yourself shaving’?” the air quotes were evident in his tone, “or when you ‘trip and fall on some glass’? _Or_ ,” Edward was really worked up now, “how about when I, or Esme, or Carlisle, or Alice, or Charlie, find you choking on your own blood, wrists dangling useless, with your heart stopped?” He loosened his grip on her wrist, she could see two stitches that had popped from the pressure of his grip, but her eyes flickered back to Edwards when he leaned in close to her face, “because that’s only thing at this finish line, Bella. Death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you see a mistake or have an idea, let me know!  
> Huge thanks to Mrs Firestorm, who flattered a new chapter out of me :")


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: To the anon who asked if I cut- I don’t, and I hope I am portraying this alright. If anyone who does would like to see some detail added or if I’ve portrayed something wrong, don’t hesitate to comment or privately PM me.  
> Also, I’m in awe of the reviews and subscriptions and favorites I’ve received from you all. I treasure every one

Bella pinched her lips tightly together to stop their trembling, she didn’t want Edward to see how much he was scaring her.

_I will not cry, I will not cry, I will not cry…_

A lone tear trickled down her cheek.

The furious expression vanished from Edward’s face as fast as it’d come. He turned the hand he still had on her wrist so that it was cradling instead of restraining, and crouched down so he was closer to her level.

“Oh, Bella. My love.” He raised his other hand and brushed his knuckles against the wet trail left by the tear.

“I didn’t mean to,” Bella choked out through a thick throat. She lifted her uninjured hand to cover his where it rested on her cheek.

“I know you didn’t,” He lowered his gaze to the ground between their legs and let out a self-deprecating chuckle, “I’m not even mad at you. How could I ever be mad at you?”

Edward…didn’t hate her? He wasn’t grossed out? He didn’t think her too broken to love?

“I was an idiot,” he continued, “I knew what was happening, I-”

“ _What the hell do you mean you knew what was happening!_ ” Alice shrilled, shattering their moment.

Even Jasper seemed betrayed as he accused, “You knew what she was doing, and you did nothing?”

Edward turned away from Bella to defend himself, or maybe to explain himself, Bella didn’t know, and she couldn’t find it in her to care enough to find out. She stared blankly at Edward’s shoulder blades as her mind raced, struggling to understand what Edward had just confessed.

He knew she’d been cutting. He’d admitted he’d known she was intentionally harming herself, yet he’d done nothing to stop her. He’d never said a word about it to her. He’d never begged her to quit, or questioned why she did it, or apparently ever thought anything of it at all. He’d let her slice her skin time and time again.

Her boyfriend, the love of her life, knew that she routinely carved up her flesh, and couldn’t care less.

Bella let out a single breath in a noise that sounded a lot like laughter and grinned to herself weakly.

Of course he didn’t. Edward liked to tell her that she made him happier than anything, that she was the sole reason for his existence, but when it came down to it, she was really just human. Edward had often said that humans were interesting, often told _her_ she was interesting, but he’d also told her about how tedious they were compared to vampires. He’d told her how he sometimes thought them inferior on accident, because when he reads their minds, 90% of their thoughts were of vanity, sex, or greed.

Edward found humans fascinating, but only for a little while. Bella should be happy; she’d lasted much longer than a little while.

Bella felt a tingle on the back of her neck and looked up. She found herself meeting Jasper’s gaze. Everyone else was still wrapped up in their shouting match, but Jasper was quietly studying her. He must have noticed Bella’s sudden change in mood.

Bella felt bad for Jasper. She could only imagine was he was going through with all these raised tensions in the room. His face was strained, like he was experiencing every bit of that bone-deep sadness and hollowness she felt inside. She hoped he wasn’t feeling the emptiness and worthlessness she was; he didn’t deserve that.

None of them deserved to feel like she did. That was her burden to bare, and she had failed and now in they were yelling at each other when the blame lay solidly on her and her alone.

She took a deep breath and stood. The yelling stopped and all eyes turned to Bella.

“This is my problem,” she began, “I caused it and I was supposed to handle it myself so that no one else had to get involved. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want their pity,” Alice and Esme both winced. Bella rushed to say the rest before she got cold feet, “or for anyone to think I was weak and couldn’t handle things on my own. This time I went too far, I involved other people on accident.”

Bella turned to Carlisle. “I’m so sorry to have interrupted your life and dragged you into helping me,” she turned to Edward, “And I’m sorry you found out in the first place.” Her voice wavered a little. “I thought…I never meant for anyone to know, you especially. I thought no one noticed.” She faltered. She couldn’t stop her next question. She had to know.

“But, I..” she hesitated, “How did you find out? What tipped you off?” She’d thought she’d been disguising her bad habit flawlessly, but if Edward had found out, then Charlie could potentially find out too. Bella couldn’t have that. Charlie would blame himself event though none of it was his fault.

When Edward spoke, his voice was tender, but strong. “I guessed what was happening a few months ago, but it was confirmed when you told me you’d cut yourself shaving the other night. I didn’t say anything because you acted so normal after. You were laughing and smiling and acting like you always do. You were so nonchalant about the whole thing… I thought I must’ve been wrong.

“And then I thought maybe if you were really hurting yo-…doing what you were doing, that I could help you through it. I thought I maybe I could help you through your problems so that you didn’t feel like you had to cut in the first place. Obviously I failed, and I am so, so sorry.”

Edward took both her hands in his, careful of her ripped stitches. His next words were unquestionably sincere, “Bella, darling, I love you more than anything. More than the moon and the sky itself. If there’s something I can do to take your pain away, I’ll do it.”

Alice popped up beside Edward and laid her hands on Bella’s right forearm.

“We _all_ love you.” Alice said sternly.

Jasper approached from behind Bella and clasped a hand to her shoulder.

“Anything we can do to help, just say the word,” he added her somberly.

Esme leaned in on Bella’s other side and wrapped her up in a sideways hug.

Bella didn’t think she’d ever felt so safe in her entire life. Their hands were cold on her skin, but the meaning behind them kept her plenty warm. She allowed herself to close her eyes and soak up the contact.

When she opened them again, they fell on Carlisle where he still sat in his armchair. The contemplative expression on his face was stark in contrast to the understanding ones surrounding Bella. As Bella observed, he pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to reconsider and closed it.

He rose from the chair and spoke, “I’m going to go grab the medical supplies to resuture your cut. Please meet me in the kitchen.” His tone was firm. “Alone.”


	8. Chapter 8

 

After Carlisle had asked to see her alone, she had gathered her strength, kissed the bottom of Edward’s chin-the only part of him she could reach from where she was entrapped in his arms-and forced herself into the kitchen, where she was currently sitting at the table across from the good Doctor, tightly cupping her hand over the split stitches in case they dripped any blood. Although, if they did, maybe Carlisle would be a little more kind with the verbal lashing he was about to give her.

For all the time Bella had spent around Carlisle- and mind you, with all the injuries she gathers tripping over her own two feet, as well as various vampire activities, she visits him to get patched up often enough- he’d never been a man of idle words. When he spoke, he was concise. Every word that left his mouth held a meaning. He was a man whose advice should be followed and whose requests should be respected. Bella had always admired him for this. Bella hoped she could continue to do that after what he was about to ask her.

No doubt, he was about to kindly ask her to leave his family, his son, alone.

For this moment though, he was busy stitching her up. Again. For the second time in an hour. Jeeze, she was kind of a walking disaster. Ironically, she was sure she would cut herself again in a heartbeat if it would delay this argument.

Oh, maybe she shouldn’t be thinking about cutting herself with what just happened. Now that the Cullens knew about her habit, perhaps she should be keeping a close eye on her thoughts. She thanked again whatever miracle it was that prevented Edward from reading her mind. Not that it seemed to matter. It seemed Edward had pretty much known what she was doing anyway.

No, she shouldn’t think that. He’d said he ‘had his suspicions’. That’s not the same thing as knowing. He’d told her often how much he loved her and how he would do anything to keep her safe and happy. And Bella believed him…for the most part.

She forced her thoughts away from Edward to watch Carlisle place the last stitch (neon pink-that was even worse than the blue. Bella _hated_ pink, and she was pretty sure Carlisle knew that), and tie off the thread. He put the needle into a bowl on the table that also contained the cloth he’d used to clean the few drops of blood that had escaped her traitorous stitches. Bella realized the others must have left the house; the smell of her blood would have sent them into a fit otherwise.

Carlisle took the bowl to the sink and set the contents aflame. At least Bella wouldn’t burden his family with the scent of her blood. Hooray for small victories.

Carlisle sat back down at the table and took a breath.

“Bella, you have to understand,” Yep, here goes, “I’m not mad at you, not at all.” No, of course not. He was just disappointed, disgusted, and appalled.

Carlisle’s eyebrows twitched downward like he could hear her thought process. He put one hand on the table between them, palm face up. Asking for her permission, but never pressuring her for it. Well, if this was her last day with vampires, she was sure as hell going to take every opportunity. She shoved her hand roughly into his gentle one. He brought his other hand up to lay it on top of theirs.

“I’m not mad,” he repeated. “I just need you to understand that I’ve seen many situations like the one you’re in. I’ve been a doctor for self-harm patients, but, more than that, I’ve been in your position.” Bella scrunched her face. “Not exactly the same position!” He hurried to amend, “But close enough.”

Bella ran a tongue over her cracked lips. Idly, she wondered if vampires ever had nervous ticks. Carlisle hadn’t blinked for quite a while; maybe that was the vampire equivalent of lip licking?

“Edward told you about what I did when I was first turned into a vampire, didn’t he? How I tried to kill myself?” He didn’t wait for a conformation. “I was lost, and I was alone, and I was terrified. I didn’t know what was happening and I didn’t understand how to fix it. But that was only part of why I tried to take my life.

“After we turn, there’s no blood pumping in our veins anymore. No heartbeat thrumming in our chest, no random body motions or unexplained pains. Our body can’t hiccup, or crack, or groan. Nothing in us moves without our consent. We could crash into a boulder, and the boulder would break before anything in us did.”

Bella believed that. She’d seen as much when Emmett had been fooling around with Jasper one day.

“Everything is so… _controlled_ as a vampire. Our mind processes are even different. If something bad happens- take for instance when James threatened you last year. Instead of panicking or being upset, all emotions were put in the back of our minds in order to plan. Even when something good happens, like Edward first telling us about you, it’s hard to be just happy. Yes, we were happy for Edward, but we also felt like it wasn’t surprising. It was just going to happen or it wasn’t. We don’t really…” Carlisle struggled for words, “…let ourselves get caught up in emotions. We’re thinking about so many things at once that it’s hard to let ourselves focus on only one.” He raised his eyes from where they’d fallen to the table back to her face.

“So when I was first transformed and struggling to be a new vampire, I barely felt a thing. My mind focused itself only on what I could do next, and didn’t stop to let me think of what I’d lost. I didn’t get to feel sad for the life I’d left behind. I didn’t get to feel much of anything. I was in control of my thoughts and emotions at all times, even when I didn’t want to be. I missed being surprised, or anxious, or angry. Everything was so controlled that I actually felt out of control.”

Carlisle smiled forlornly at Bella.

“And the only time I could stop and take a moment and _feel something_?” Carlisle’s thumb slid up to brush against her new stitches. “Was when I focused completely on killing myself. When I had one goal in mind.”

Bella frowned. It’s not…that wasn’t…

“It’s not the same thing, for me. I don’t do this hoping I’ll _die”_ Bella couldn’t stand the thought that Carlisle would think she was trying to kill herself. That wasn’t what this was about. Hadn’t she made that irrefutably clear when she’d accidentally ratted herself out by going to the hospital? “I’m not suicidal.”

“No,” Carlisle agreed, “but it helps calm you down. Makes you feel as if you are back in control.”

Bella bit her bottom lip and turned her face away from him. She looked at the window next to the kitchen table while she tried to calm her thoughts. She didn’t know how to explain why she was doing what she was doing because _she_ didn’t even quite know why.

Carlisle seemed to understand her unspoken words. He gave her a minuscule nod, and released her hand.

He stood and offered her a hand to help her up. “I don’t have any tomato sauce in the house. Vampire reasons, you understand.” He looked back at her with something akin to humor in his eyes. “But I can run and get some while Alice or Esme gets your truck from the hospital.”

Tomato sauce? What would she need tomato sauce-oh! She’d told Charlie she was out getting tomato sauce, hadn’t she. Alice and Esme must be the only Cullens available to get her truck right now. That should probably worry her, she thinks-that Edward is so out of control he needs Jasper there to calm him down-but truthfully, Bella can’t find it in herself to work up enough energy to care. At the moment, all she wants to do is lay down for a bit.

“Yeah, okay,” she says instead, “that would be great.”

Carlisle nods easily and pulls out the sleek black phone all Cullens seem to have. He speaks into it too quickly for Bella to catch all of what he says, but she hears “Alice” somewhere in there. And sure enough, not 20 seconds after Carlisle’s hung up, Alice pops into the living room.

The usual bubbly demeanor that accompanies Alice’s presence is gone. In its stead hangs a heavy cloud of tension and what Bella feels must be disappointment.

“Come on, Bella,” Alice monotones, “let’s get you back to your truck.”

Bella glances back at Carlisle, to say goodbye or to thank him, she isn’t sure, but before she can do either she finds herself in the passenger seat of Alice’s car. She attributes her lack of awareness to her exhaustion.

Alice turns the car on and pulls out of the Cullen's driveway in silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a while. Sorry about that. I’d love to hear your ideas on new chapters, please. Thank you all, so much, for leaving reviews and reading my story. Every review motivates me to update. Special thanks to Mrs Firestorm, as always, for being half the reason I even continue this story.


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